


Nocto-Promtie

by yeaka



Series: The Chocobro Show [12]
Category: Banjo-Kazooie Series, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis has always wanted a best friend in his backpack.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: The Chocobro Show [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538524
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Nocto-Promtie

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV, Banjo Kazooie, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Noctis hits ‘pause’, calling up the impressively animated menu screen with the slow, droning music that’s not _quite_ as amazing as the rest of the soundtrack, but still iconic in its own right. He takes a split second to be proud of his totals, then pushes off the couch and wanders around the coffee table. Squatting down, he chirps, “Okay, let’s do it!”

He can hear the couch groan as Prompto shuffles closer, asking in awe, “For real?”

Noctis glances over his shoulder long enough to drown in those big blue eyes, wide-open and all over Noctis’ back. “Yeah, c’mon.” If he had Gladiolus’ biceps, he’d punctuate his statement with a shoulder flex, but he’s not quite there yet, so instead he just does a little wiggle. Prompto’s delighted chuckle is music to his ears.

“Dude, c’mon, you don’t even have a backpack!”

“I got some yellow shorts I can strip down to, though.”

Prompto howls with laughter and thankfully doesn’t further the joke, because Noctis doesn’t actually own any full-yellow clothes. His wardrobe is a pretty steady black with a few whites and blues for accents. He wouldn’t mind taking his shirt off for this, but he can already hear Prompto coming closer, and then Prompto’s leaning over him, breath hot across the back of his neck, arms looping up around his shoulders. There’s a moment where the two of them are just _flush together_ , so close that Noctis can smell Prompto’s cheap cologne, and then Prompto nervously checks, “You sure?”

Noctis doesn’t give an answer, just backs up, forcing Prompto to yelp and clamp on. Then Noctis is hiking him into the air, and those long, slender legs dart around his waist, clenching tightly to his middle. Prompto’s definitely heavier than Noctis expected, but nothing he can’t handle. He feels like it’s one of the few moments where his training’s actually paying off. He carries Prompto in a circle around the coffee table, while Prompto squeals in mock-fright and drapes all over him like a particularly welcome blanket. 

Noctis calls up, “Okay, I’m gonna jump, then you flutter us down slow. We’ll move onto a forward roll after.”

Prompto laughs and reaches out his arms—Noctis can see the reflection in the glossy television screen. He flaps a few times, crying like a bird, and Noctis jumps as well as he can manage.

Somewhere in the background, a door opens, and by the time Noctis registers that sound, it’s too late—Prompto’s still squawking, and Ignis is wandering into the living room. 

Noctis freezes. He can feel Prompto tensing against him, legs pinching his middle just a tad tighter than what’s comfortable, arms borderline choking him with how fierce their grip is. Ignis’ expression transitions from abject shock to withering acceptance. 

“Prompto. _Your Highness._ ”

Prompto mumbles a weak, “Hi,” and Noctis “hyuck”s like a sentient bear. 

“Do I dare ask what you’re doing?”

Embarrassment melts into old memories, and Noctis makes himself straighten up, boldly answering, “Prompto’s being my Kazooie, like a _true_ friend.”

Ignis rolls his eyes and sighs, “For the last time, Noct, I am _not_ running uphill with you trying to hold onto my back backwards.”

While Ignis is here, Noctis tries, “Could you at least beat the engine room for me?”

Ignis stares at him. Noctis stares back. They already moved on to Click Clock Wood, because trying to top their note score in Rusty Bucket Bay practically gave Prompto an anxiety attack, but Noctis hates leaving collectathons at anything but one-hundred percent, and Ignis knows that darn well. He also knows how to 3D platform like no one Noctis has ever seen. His cool, level-headed skill is the only reason Noctis ever makes it past Grunty Industries, and given that Prompto said he really wants to try Tooie next, Ignis is going to have to get in on the action sooner or later.

But Ignis turns on his heel and marches towards the kitchen, probably to make an awesome dinner that Noctis also wants. On the way, he scolds, “Honestly, Noctis, you’re old enough to handle your own timed missions. If you can’t manage a simple Jiggy, how are you going to run the country?”

“Simple?” Prompto mumbles indignantly, while Noctis pouts, because they both know he has no interest in running the country _or_ swimming through fan-blades in toxic water.

But he does want to help King Jingaling make it to the kickball tournament, which means they better hurry up and rescue Tooty, so he carries Prompto back to the couch and resumes feeding Eyrie worms.


End file.
